Collision Theory
by archetype.of.a.fangirl
Summary: The incorrigible detective, sassy pathologist, and sneaky dominatrix return to track down a certain consulting criminal. Continues after Season 3. Established Sherlolly. Fluff, awkward situations, and adventure reign.
1. Chapter 1

**Hey guys! I saw this prompt (somewhere) on Tumblr, and thought I'd give it a shot. I've never written fanfiction before, so any constructive criticism would honestly be amazing. Please review; I'd love to know what you guys think! 3 I'm also looking for someone to help me beta this...PM me if interested?**

**Special thanks to Hoodoo for the assistance :)**

**Disclaimer: I can assure you that if I owned Sherlock, there would be a lot more Sherlolly. But I don't -_-**

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Molly Hooper arrived home from work only to find Sherlock curled up in his chair. Craning her head, she saw his fingers steepled under his chin, eyes closed in thought. She set her umbrella down gently before tiptoeing into the kitchen. Pouring herself a cup of tea, she relaxed in the chair across from him. His forehead was smooth where it was normally creased, his lips slightly curved as though he were about to always seemed so peaceful whenever he was deep in thought. Sometimes she-

"Molly." She jumped a little.

"Hello, Sherlock" She squeaked. It didn't matter that she had been living with him for the past year, or even that she had saved his life more times than she'd care to count. Sherlock was Sherlock.

"Stop it." She blinked. "Stop...thinking. I could hear you even in my mind palace. How long have you been sitting there?"

"Not long. I picked up your milk and eggs, by the way. It's raining quite a bit, isn't it? I was lucky to catch a cab." Sherlock visibly perked up.

"What about the livers? Were you able to acquire those too?" Molly nodded.

"They're over in the 'fridge."

"Oh wonderful! I've been waiting for those. Do you think you could also pick up an eye and a lung too?" Sherlock narrowed his eyes and appraised Molly. "You've just finished three-no, the strength of the scent implies _four - _autopsies today. More than the usual, actually, so there will be enough organs." Molly sniffed her cardigan. Was the scent really _that_ noticeable? "Don't worry, I was referring to the chemicals, not the_ bodies_." He seemed to notice her hesitation and hurried to explain. "I've used up my spare eye...well Mrs. Johnson's, technically, so I need a new one. I need it for my experiment, Molly. I'd get one from Bart's myself, but Mike won't let me anywhere _near_ the lab after what happened _last week_." She opened her mouth before clamping it shut again. Seeing her expression, his face fell.

Molly snapped her head towards him. "What!? What did you do?! Actually...I'd rather not know. About the organs..." He glanced up and gave her the _deducing _look.

"Mike isn't happy. His recent divorce has embittered him." He stood up and began to pace around the room. "He used to turn a blind eye to your organ snitching-"

"I wouldn't call it _tha_-"

"You're taking organs; I would say that could be correctly labeled as organ snitching. Mike normally wouldn't mind, but his superiors are beginning to notice the missing body parts." With a huff, Sherlock sat down next to Molly's legs and laid his head in her lap. Absentmindedly, she began to stroke his hair.

"I'm really sorry Sherlock, you _know _I'd have gotten them if I could..." She pressed a kiss to the top of his head. He hopped up and walked towards the window, observing the rain.

"No matter; I can always acquire one elsewhere." Molly was finding it difficult to contain her snicker. She shuffled into the kitchen.

"I'm going to make dinner. You know, John and Mary haven't visited in a while. Maybe we should invite them over for dinner sometime." Sherlock turned his head slightly only to hear Molly clanging and rummaging through the cupboard.

"We just saw them this morning, Molly" He said, exasperated. Molly poked her head out of the kitchen.

"I suppose, but I'd love to see them _outside_ of the morgue. It's rather-"

He cut her off again. "What are you making for dinner?"

"Pot roast. Anyways-"

"Are you on your menses again?" Her head jerked up only to see Sherlock still looking out the window. She put the pan down.

"Wh-what?! Sherlock, that's-" she sputtered.

"You're wearing that ridiculous jumper again, and seem even more particularly sentimental-"

"I _like_ this jumper! It's very warm! The weather's bloody awful today. And there's nothing wrong with wanting to see your friends without a body on the slab!" Raising his eyebrow, Sherlock turned to face Molly.

"Hmm. You didn't immediately deny it. And stop making that face it's really-" Molly cut him off.

"-What does this have to do with anything?!" Sherlock smirked at her before turning to pick up his violin. "Sherlock!" Without acknowledging her, he turned back around and began to play Molly's favorite song. Knowing that this was as close as she'd ever get to receiving an apology, she sighed and returned to start dinner. Between her clanging, his screeching, and the thunder outside, neither one heard the buzzer. Nor did they hear Sherlock's text alert. It wasn't until they heard Mrs. Hudson's shriek that they finally noticed someone was there. Molly shut off the water.

"Sherlock? Will you go see who it is? My hands are covered in flour." Sherlock stopped playing.

"Oh for heaven's sake, it's not important. If it were Lestrade he would have texted me-" His phone beeped again. He tucked his violin under his arm and set the bow down, peering at the screen. "It's just Mycroft. God knows what he-" The door creaked open, and Mrs. Hudson popped her head in.

"Sherlock? There's someone here to see you." Sherlock rolled his eyes before turning back toward the window.

"_Tell Mycroft to bugger off._ I don't _care._" Mrs. Hudson shook her head adamantly.

"It's not Mycroft. Perhaps you should come down to see for yourself." Mrs. Hudson shut the door and shuffled back down the stairs. Clearly displeased, Sherlock stalked to the door and flung it open.

"_Oh for heaven's sake, _what is it? Surely it can't be anything important," he scoffed. There was no one there. He was about to slam the door shut when he heard the familiar high heeled clack of a woman hurrying up the stairs. A client? No, judging by the footsteps, she seemed far too anxious to be a client. Right then, the woman in question came into view. Sherlock jerked his head in surprise. Once the impossible was eliminated, whatever remained had to be the truth. But this...this was pretty damn improbable. The visitor hurried closer.

"Sherlock." Two syllables, one word. All he needed to remember. She was pleading with him, just as she had all those years ago. "I need your help." Somewhere behind him, he registered that Molly had stopped whatever she was doing and was coming out of the kitchen. Molly called to him.

"Sherlock? Who is it?" For once, it seemed, Sherlock Holmes was utterly baffled. He opened his mouth before shutting it again. Turning from the doorway, he allowed his unexpected guest to enter. Molly gasped and dropped the pan. The woman was drenched from the storm, and though she was clearly frazzled, she still looked completely composed and graceful. Her dark hair was down and un-styled, and for the life of him, Sherlock could not think of a single instance where he had seen her like this. Her face was still carefully made up, but even that could not hide the defeated and desperate look in her eyes. Her eyes darted around the flat nervously before flicking back onto Sherlock. Perhaps if the circumstances were different, she might have enjoyed seeing the great and infallible Sherlock Holmes at a loss.

"I need your help," The woman repeated.

"Sh-Sherlock? What? What is it? What's going on?" Molly stammered. The woman finally seemed to register Molly's presence and raised her eyebrows in surprise before looking back at Sherlock questioningly. He merely gestured at the chair generally reserved for clients.

Sherlock spoke to her curtly. "Have a seat, Miss Adler."

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**Sorry about the cliffie! Please review with feedback! Should I continue the story? Let me know :)**

**~Audrey**


	2. Chapter 2

**Thanks for the reviews guys! They make me feel all warm and fuzzy. Don't be worried about Irene guys; she'll be awkward and hassle Molly and Sherlock a lot, but nothing catastrophic. I like them all too much to do that to them heh heh. Special thanks to monsterprincess, lavanyalabelle*, dietplainlite, SammyKatz, apedarling, and the guest reviewer for the encouragement to continue the story! I'm planning this to be a longer fic, and will probably update around once a week (maybe more if I have enough reviews *winkity wink wink*). Also, my greatest concern is whether or not the characters are OOC or if the plot is moving too fast, so any feedback there would be greatly appreciated :)**

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Chapter two

Irene cast a cautious look at Sherlock before gliding over to the seat. Sitting down, she looked straight at him. He simply pulled out his phone and began to text Mycroft. How? His phone pinged with the reply only seconds later. I tried to warn you, brother mine. If only you hadn't blocked me. Before he could draft a reply, his phone sounded again. The perimeter is secured. Sherlock put away the phone before folding into the chair across from Irene. For several minutes, the heavy patter of the rain was the only sound in the room. Finally, Molly broke the silence.

"Sherlock," she whispered, "Should I get her a towel?" He seemed to snap out of his thoughts and turned to Molly sharply.

"What?" He hissed. Molly looked at Irene nervously.

"She's dripping all over the place. She could get hypothermia..." When Sherlock didn't reply, she hurried to the closet and pulled out a towel. Molly turned back towards Sherlock and Irene, hesitating.

"Should I give it to her, then?" She whisper-yelled to Sherlock. Irene watched this display with some amusement.

Crossing her legs, she turned towards Molly. "Oh, for heaven's sake," She said loudly, "you don't need to whisper around me. I can hear you perfectly." Molly jumped slightly before dropping the towel in Irene's lap. Irene raised an eyebrow. "Thank you. I must say, Sherlock, I'm surprised you've...found someone. After all that I tried to do, you ended up falling for Miss Hooper here. The great, elusive, Sherlock Holmes has a girlfriend. What a delightful development." Irene tilted her head back and laughed. "Oh don't look so nervous dear, I don't bite!" She winked at Molly. "Unless you want me to." Molly turned bright red. Irene curled her scarlet lips into a smirk. "She really is lovely, I can see why you picked her. Docile, too."

"Miss Adler..." Sherlock growled. Molly cut him off.

"Actually, for the record, I picked him. Not the other way around," she declared indignantly. Sherlock cocked an eyebrow at her.

"Oh this is so entertaining!" The Woman clapped her hands together in glee. She used the towel to dab at her dress and watched the two with apparent interest.

"Miss Adler. If we could focus on the topic at hand; did your...reappearance have a purpose? It's simple enough to deduce that you're in trouble, but why?" He steepled his fingers under his chin and scanned her eyes over her. "Obviously you're on the run. But why come to me? Mycroft would have..."

"Mycroft can't help me." She cut in.

"Can't? Or won't?"

"Can't." If Sherlock had been uninterested before, this would have definitely caught his attention. It wasn't often that his brother was unable to help someone. Even in the most dire situations, there were always strings he could pull, connections he could utilize.

"Why are you here?" He asked. Irene's confident facade seemed to slip for a moment. She pursed her lips together and opened her mouth and shut it again. Sherlock watched her and appeared to be storing her reaction in his mind palace.

"I've already taken a huge risk in coming here. If I tell you why I'm here, you have to agree to help me."

"Miss Adler, you came to me. I believe I am justified in saying that I don't haveto do anything."

"You didn't reject it either. I am here for...strictly confidential reasons. It's on a need to know basis; I can't allow anyone else to know. Right now, only Mycroft knows. I can promise you it's interesting. More than a ten…." Molly, who had been watching from the doorway, gasped.

"Sherlock, you don't know why she's here or what she wants, or even if she's telling the truth, you can't possibly agree-"

Sherlock replied quietly. "She's telling the truth." Molly shot him a dangerous look before dragging him into a nearby room. She slammed the door behind her and whirled around to face her somewhat perplexed consulting detective.

"Sherlock, you can't just agree to something like that. It's dangerous! How do you know we can even trust her?!" She hissed.

"Yes, Molly, I am well aware that it may be 'dangerous'. She's telling the truth. Mycroft confirms." Molly relaxed marginally.

"I just...I don't want you getting hurt," She reached up and cupped his face. Normally, he would have be uncomfortable with this blatant display of affection, but for now, he permitted it if only to assuage her fears.

"I think- no, I know- it has something to do with Moriarty. It's the only reason she'd be here, and it's the only reason why Mycroft wouldn't be able to help her. Molly, just think, we've been searching for him this entire time, with no results. Adler's just offered us a shortcut. She has information that we need. The sooner we figure this out, the sooner it'll all be over." His face shone with the prospect. "It'll be brilliant Molly, brilliant!" He grinned at her and gripped her shoulders.

"Have you even thought this through? Where is she going to stay?"

"Here, obviously. It's the only place" Molly gaped at him.

"But...but...don't you think Mrs. Hudson will notice? John?" Sherlock rolled his eyes.

"Molly, just trust me, everything will be fine!" he snapped. Molly set her jaw and glared at Sherlock.

"Trust you?You never even deigned to tell me she was alive!" Fuming, she jabbed her finger into Sherlock's chest. "What else haven't you told me?"

"Don't be ridiculous Molly, it was for your own protection." he retorted. She opened her mouth as if to say more, but Sherlock flung the door open again and tugged her back into the sitting room.

"I'll help you." The sag of relief in Irene's shoulders was nearly unnoticeable. "What do you know?" Her eyes darted towards Molly, then back at Sherlock.

"Information is strictly on a need to know basis" she looked at Molly pointedly. Molly hesitated before turning to leave.

"No." Sherlock insisted, stopping Molly in her tracks. "She's staying." Irene and Molly both looked at him in surprise.

"Just because she's your..."

"If you want my help, you have to agree to my terms. If I don't help you, who else could you go to? Exactly. This is all I'm asking. My terms are quite reasonable. You trusted me enough to come to me for help, and I trust Molly." He watched her face for any sign of emotion. Slight twitch in her jaw muscle, clearly agitated. Situation is worse than she was exceptional at hiding her true emotions and intentions, Sherlock was better at deducing them. He simply used her desperation as a bargaining tool to ensure her compliance.

"Molly orchestrated my fake suicide and kept my secret for over two years. From a practical standpoint, she's insignificant, which..."

"Excuse me?!"

"With all due respect Molly, that makes you the ideal woman for the job. Besides, if I left her out, she'd be in even more danger. It's better that she knows."

"Oh how precious; Sherlock's so protective of his Molly," Irene purred. Molly was trying to hide her smugness, and was failing miserably. Sherlock neither confirmed nor denied her statement. "Oh Molly, whatever did you do to snag our Mr. Holmes? I'm sure he's told you how I tried. But what did he see in you?"

"Stop changing the subject. If we're to help you, we need to know everything." Sherlock snapped, with an annoyed look at Irene. "What does Mycroft know?" The devilish smirk slid off her face and she instantly sobered.

"Enough." She pulled out a thin, black USB drive from her coat and slid it across the table. "It's password protected. The details are on it." She met his eyes.

"The same...?" Irene nodded almost imperceptibly. He tilted his head questioningly.

"Only you would know it anyways." Molly looked extremely confused.

"Know what?" She asked in a small voice. "What do you know?"

"The password. Where's your laptop, Molly? Oh there it is." He hopped out of his chair and strode over to the shelf. Molly reached to take the laptop from him.

"Let me enter my pass-"

"Oh no need, I know what it is already." He said. When the computer finally loaded, he typed "MollyLovesTobyXOXO" in the password boxand promptly jammed the flash drive into the port.

"B-but..." she sputtered. Another password box opened, and Sherlock then typed: "IAmSherLocked" to access the files. He stopped typing long enough to glance at her.

"Really Molly, I'm disappointed. It took me less than six tries to break into your computer the first time. Better than Miss Adler though. It took only four." Molly resisted the sudden urge to slap the smug grin off of his face. While the contents of the file loaded, Sherlock turned back towards Irene.

"Explain."

Irene closed her eyes as if gathering her thoughts, and began to speak.

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**So what did you guys think? Please leave a review! Also, special thanks and loads of cookies and love to my beta, lavanyalabelle. If I get enough reviews I'll include a fluffy bonus chapter for our favorite couple ;)**

**~Audrey**


	3. Chapter 3

**Wow look at me, updating on time hehe :). This chapter actually took a while to write and it's longer than my usual chapters. I've got the next few chapters all planned out (with some parts even written) so I'm definitely excited :D I know a lot of you think that Molly isn't being forceful enough, but don't worry :) she'll show that sassy side soon! Special thanks to lavanyalabelle for betaing :) Enjoy!**

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Sherlock hefted the laptop and sat back into his chair, with Molly perched on the armrest. As Sherlock opened the file, Irene began to speak.

"After you helped me, I went underground. I had originally intended to disappear and start a simple, quiet life…" Sherlock snorted at the thought of Irene doing anything quiet or simple.

Irritated, Irene shot a glare at him before continuing. "My enemies weren't convinced by my death, and were still pursuing me. Our little...stunt...bought me some time, but not nearly enough for me to disappear completely. Mycroft, however, found me, and offered his assistance in return for my cooperation with him among other...things. The price of his assistance, however, was too high, and I had simply did not have the means to fulfill his requirements." She said bitterly. "It wasn't that I wanted to spite him-though I did-, it was more like I couldn't. Long story short, I rejected his offer. He tried very hard to make me reconsider my decision, but to agree to his stipulations would have been a death wish. He knew that, obviously. The original contract is on the disk; you can see for yourself. Because of my refusal, he made my life very difficult for several months. A few weeks more, and I would have been forced to comply."

It was such a Mycroft-like thing to do that Sherlock actually smirked.

"That was when Moriarty appeared and requested my assistance again." The mention of the consulting villain was enough to cause Molly to make a strangled noise. Irene gave her a strange look. Sherlock waved his hand impatiently.

"Yes, yes, continue."

"He offered the same things your brother had, but with fewer limitations. I had no other choice, Sherlock. Your brother's demands were next to impossible to meet and while, I knew I couldn't take Moriarty's promises at face value, it was far more than what your brother was willing to offer me. So I returned to Moriarty. I had only planned on staying long enough to allow things to calm down. A few months, at the very most."

Sherlock said nothing. Molly gave her a sympathetic look.

"So I agreed to assist Moriarty, and in return, he kept my enemies.. and Mycroft,…at bay. I didn't do much in the first few months, but he soon began to involve me more and more in his plans. He wasn't the same man though. Gradually, he became unhinged in his desperation to best you. He thought it was a game of sorts. 'The Great Game against the great Sherlock Holmes', he said. The 'competition' between you was the joy in his life; he lived for it. Eventually, he went mad. I've seen things. I've seen him do horrible, horrific things. He wasn't like that before. He wasn't even human anymore. He began to gain followers, mostly through blackmail. That's what I did. I blackmailed people. And he...he did things." Her voice cracked and she stopped speaking. After composing herself, she continued.

"Despite what you may think of me, I'm not...I'm not completely heartless. I couldn't...stand it. He was completely insane. He killed, and tortured, and..." Her voice cracked. "All of the necessary...details...are also stored on the disk." Irene bit her bottom lip and looked up towards the ceiling.

Molly tore her gaze away from the files on the computer and noticed that Irene's eyes looked suspiciously shiny, as if she were trying to restrain her tears. Without a word, Molly left the room only to return moments later with a cup of tea.

With shaking hands, Sherlock noted, Irene accepted Molly's tea. She took a steadying sip.

"I did what he told me to, and plotted my escape in secret. The week I planned to run away, your brother contacted me again. Moriarty was planning something big. I didn't realize it, but I knew too much about his plans, which would have complicated my disappearance. Moriarty was slipping; while he kept up the facade with you, he began to become careless. He didn't trust me, but Moran liked to brag, and Moran knew everything. I knew about Richard Brook, the kids... I knew more than he should've trusted me with. I didn't know everything, but I knew Moriarty was going to dispose of me as soon as I fulfilled my purpose. I had no other choice but to try and escape at the first possible moment. Your brother had pushed me to the point where I'd have no one to turn to except for Moriarty. You can judge me all you want, but I did what I had to do to survive." Irene looked into her empty cup. Her head was still held high, and her posture was still ramrod straight, as if to preserve her slipping sense of confidence. "Mycroft wanted me to stay and spy on Moriarty. Obviously he knew that I'd have no choice but to turn to Moriarty, thus putting me in the perfect position to be his spy. Even from the beginning, he was planning on using me to monitor Moriarty's activity" she paused and took another sip of her tea.

"Why did you agree to spy on Moriarty if it meant you had to stay longer?" Molly asked gently.

"I...hated what Moriarty was doing and wanted it to end. If Mycroft could bring him down, it'd be safer than if I tried to escape on my own. The agreement was set up so I'd only have to stay a few more months than I'd originally intended. Mycroft also set up a generous pension for my disappearance. Unfortunately, your little..stunt... on the hospital roof complicated everything quite a bit."

"You jumped, but Moriarty didn't believe you were dead. If he could fake his death, then you could too. He blackmailed one of the newer pathologists working there to fake his autopsy papers-" Molly gasped.

"It was Bryan. Bryan was handling most of the autopsies that day" she interjected. Irene nodded.

"Most likely. You were too busy helping Sherlock, and everyone else was in a frenzy over the supposed double suicide. After a few weeks of hiding from Mycroft's men, Moriarty returned and began to plot your…Sherlock's… downfall. Escaping would have been impossible; Moriarty was watching everyone too closely."

"My 'suicide' would have forced you to delay your disappearance, yet the contract clearly states that you had fulfilled your duties to Mycroft. You would have been well within your rights to leave." He gestured to the documents. "And yet, you stayed." Irene sniffed and tilted her head up a fraction of an inch.

"Mycroft's...terms...were very generous." Sherlock narrowed his eyes at her in suspicion.

"While I don't doubt that, money alone wouldn't have been a large enough incentive for you to remain."

Irene didn't reply for several moments. Eventually, she broke the silence. "You saved my life, Sherlock Holmes. Something like that isn't easily forgotten or ignored. So, I did what I could to help Mycroft save yours. I simply repaid a debt. After this, consider us even."

"I stayed with Moriarty for two more years. Luckily, he couldn't dispose of me quite yet. I tried to collect all the information I possibly could, but Moriarty was beginning to suspect me. When Mycroft asked to extend the contract, one of my conditions was that I could walk away whenever I wanted. He was planning on eliminating me soon, so Mycroft helped me disappear, and arranged for me to come here."

Sherlock curved his lips in what could have passed as a smile.

"I suspected as much." Grabbing his scarf and Belstaff, he looked at Molly and Irene. "I have some...things...I need to discuss with Mycroft."

While he didn't exactly savor the thought of Molly being left alone with Irene, he knew that Irene wouldn't dare try anything. Even if she did have a suicide wish, Mycroft's men were positioned outside (as Irene surely knew), and despite her docile appearance, Molly was more than capable of handling any such situations. For Irene's sake, he hoped that would prove unnecessary. At the door, he paused and turned to Molly.

"Emily Burns," he instructed. Molly smiled in acknowledgment before he whirled out the door.

The two women spoke at the same time.

"I'm sorry about what you had to go through-"

"Who's Emily Burns-" Irene stopped. "What were you going to say?"

"I'm sorry about what you've had to go through." Molly repeated. Irene brushed it off.

"It's fine," she said flippantly. Molly's usually kind face was stern.

"If you say so. I would also like to point out that while I pity you, I don't trust you one bit. Sherlock does, and for his sake, I will try to tolerate your presence. If you need any assistance, we will give it to you, but if you ever put us in any more danger than we are already in, you will have me to answer to. Moriarty's made the mistake of underestimating me once, and I would advise you to not repeat that mistake. I will do everything within my means to assist you, but don't you dare make me regret this decision." Molly hissed. Irene raised her eyebrows.

"Aren't you a fiesty one!" she winked at Molly. "I like them with a temper. Don't worry," Irene rolled her eyes,"I'm not suicidal."

Molly scanned her face and appeared to be looking for any signs of deceit. When she found none, she visibly relaxed.

"Good," she chirped. "I'm so glad we got that unpleasant business out of the way." Irene laughed and turned to look out the window.

"I bet you're a real firecracker in bed," Luckily for Molly, Irene's back was turned so she couldn't see the blush that creeped its way up her face. She chose to ignore Irene's comment. Irene turned partially towards Molly.

"Who's Emily Burns?" she asked.

"We have a lot of aliases that we use whenever we need a disguise. Mrs. Hudson, John, and even Lestrade would recognize you. The fewer people who know the better, though we may have to tell John eventually. Also, if anyone has surveillance on us, it'll be much less conspicuous."

"You didn't answer the question. Who is Emily Burns?"

"Emily Burns will be your new alias for the next couple of weeks. Mycroft will forge the identification. Emily Burns is a thirty four year old woman...from Belgravia, incidentally. She's a divorced microbiologist with no children. And also...my stepsister." When Irene looked surprised, Molly hurried to explain.

"It would make sense as you're living with us for such an extended period of time. The excuse will be that you're going through a tough divorce, and we're providing emotional support for you."

"That seems...logical."

"Right, so...let's get you changed." Clapping her hands together, Molly headed for her-and soon to be Irene's-bedroom. She walked to the closet and knelt to the ground. Feeling around with her hands, she stopped at a seemingly random floorboard and began tugging at it. With a considerable amount of force, the floorboard gave way to a hollow space underneath. Irene looked on cautiously as Molly pulled out a large box and a duffel bag. She unzipped the duffel first and dumped out the contents. Irene eyed the clothing with distaste. She gingerly poked the cardigan on top.

"Not your usual taste, I know, but it's better this way."

"This looks exactly like your own wardrobe. I don't know why you have to hide it there." said Irene pointedly.

"Well my microbiologist sister would be expected to have similar tastes to mine, I'd imagine. I hid them so I wouldn't accidentally wear these. People would begin to suspect something if they saw Emily wear so many of my clothes."

"These clothes look hideous."

Molly looked affronted. She sifted through the pile until she found a beige cardigan, an old T-shirt from uni, and some ill-fitting trousers.

"I picked these out myself." She said defensively. "They should fit. Go on." She shoved the clothes at Irene. "Try them on." Before Molly could turn to leave, Irene stripped out of her skirt and blouse and yanked the clothes on. Dressed in Molly's-Emily's-clothing, Irene Adler already looked like another woman. Her curves were completely hidden in the ill-fitting garments, and the style and color was much more librarian than dominatrix. Molly pursed her lips and looked at Irene.

"Perfect. Now for the face." Irene's hands few to her face in alarm. Molly laughed and picked up the box. Irene eyed it warily. "It's just some makeup and face putty." Molly opened the box and tilted it towards the Woman. "See? Go wash your face with this cleanser." She shuffled off to the loo while Molly began to sort through the contents of the box. By the time Irene came out, there was a chair waiting for her with countless beauty products set up around it.

"Are you going to put that on me?"

"Only for the first few times until you get the hang of it. You're going to have to do this every day, you know. To keep things simple, I think I'll just leave your hair the way it is. You'll have to wear it down, though."

"Fine," She sighed. Molly cupped Irene's face.

"Tilt your chin up," she instructed. Molly molded the putty with her hands and began to smear it all over Irene's nose and cheeks. She filled out the cheeks and made the nose larger.

"It looks like a toddler smeared clay all over my face," Irene commented. Molly simply took out another bottle and began to mix foundation in a smaller palette. After approximately one hour of painstaking contouring, shadowing, and brushing, Irene Adler had been successfully transformed into Emily Burns. Her usually hollow cheeks were rounder, her nose now had a slightly beak-like quality to it, and her eyes were now a muddy hazel color. After applying the finishing touches to Irene's face, Molly shuffled around the box some more until she found a chestnut colored wig. She tied the Woman's hair up and fixed the wig in place with discreet bobby pins. Satisfied, Molly moved back to examine her work.

"As long as people don't look too closely…and they shouldn't….you look exactly like Emily." Irene looked into the mirror and gasped. With disbelieving fingers, she touched her nose, cheeks, and hair. While Irene poked and prodded her new face, Molly pulled out her phone and texted Sherlock.

'**Emily just stopped by -****M xx**.' Sherlock's reply came almost instantaneously.

'**Invite John and Mary for dinner**. **They should** **meet her.- SH' **Her phone chimed again.

'**Also, Mrs. Hudson.- SH'**

Hopping out of her chair, she waved her hand at Irene.

"Let's go see Mrs. Hudson, shall we?"

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**I just wanted to say that Molly and Sherlock don't have a physical relationship. While he has an emotional bond with her, he still feels slightly uncomfortable with anything physical. I did this mainly so we could see how Irene influences the development of Molly and Sherlock's relationship ;) Oh and winkwink yesterday was my birthday, and since I posted a longer chappie than usual, you should review because reviews make my day (hint hint) ;) But seriously your reviews motivate me, so even if you didn't like it, please post a review! Sherlolly fluff to come!**

**-Audrey**

**P.S. Your feedback is super important to me. Do you think the plot's moving too fast? And are the characters OOC? Please let me know :D**


	4. Chapter 4

**Hey guys! Sorry this is a week late (I posted two chapters to make up for it) :) school is being bleh. Anyways, I hope you all enjoy this chapter, and let me know what you think! If it's moving too fast, or the characters are OOC, please let me know. This chapter wasn't betaed because I wanted to post it ASAP for you, so please let me know if there are any errors! :D**

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Irene followed Molly out of 221B and up the steps to Mrs. Hudson's flat. Molly knocked on the door.

"Mrs. Hudson? Are you in?" Listening carefully, both women could distinctly hear the faint chatter of the telly. Footsteps shuffled inside as Mrs. Hudson hurried to the door. Opening it, she beamed at Molly.

"Hello Mrs. Hudson," She waved. "I hope this isn't a bad time."

"Oh Molly dear! How nice to see you! Would you like to come in? I've just made some tea." Mrs. Hudson crooned. Behind her, Irene coughed. Mrs. Hudson finally seemed to notice her. "And who is this young lady?" Molly smiled sheepishly.

"This is my sister, Emily." Martha Hudson looked delighted.

"Oh I didn't know you had a sister Molly! Sisterhood is so wonderful. Its so nice to see you with your family. Come in, come in." Stepping aside from the doorway, she ushered both Molly and Irene into the flat. On their way in, Molly shot Irene a warning look. Irene rolled her eyes in return. Both women sat down at the kitchen table while Mrs. Hudson prepared tea.

"It really is too bad I've never met Molly's family before." Mrs. Hudson beamed at Irene. "Have you met Sherlock yet? He's Molly's fiancé." Molly choked on her tea.

"Er, Mrs. Hudson, Sherlock and I aren't-" said Molly. Mrs. Hudson looked put off.

"Nonsense, you're already living together. That's the equivalent of a marriage proposal when it's coming from Sherlock Holmes."

"John lived here before me," Molly pointed out.

"Exactly," Mrs. Hudson winked. Irene snorted into her coffee and Molly looked slightly green. Mrs. Hudson seemed oblivious to her discomfort. "I keep telling that boy, marry her before its too late! There aren't very many women who will tolerate your organ snitching shenanigans, let alone encourage it. Molly is such a dearie, always helping me with my errands. Such a lovely girl." she turned to Irene. "But I'm sure you already know that. I imagine you've heard enough about our Sherlock too." Irene looked amused.

"I suppose you could say that. I know quite a bit, actually." Mrs. Hudson smiled indulgently at Irene.

"Anyone special in your life, Emily?" She inquired. Molly interrupted before Irene could reply.

"Actually, Mrs. Hudson, Emily will be staying at 221B for a while." Molly lowered her voice. "She recently got divorced from her husband. It took quite a toll on her." Molly hugged Irene closer in a show of sisterly support. When Mrs. Hudson turned towards her, Irene carefully schooled her expression into that of a heartbroken, worn woman. Mrs. Hudson clucked sympathetically.

"Its so good that you're supporting your sister like this." she looked at Irene again."I had marital issues myself. Some nasty business there. Sherlock can tell you." She whispered. "You poor dear," She said to Irene, nudging the plate of biscuits across the table. "Here, have a biscuit. Sherlock loves my biscuits. Take your mind right off the problem." Irene was about to refuse when Molly shot her another warning look. Cautiously, she tried to force her mind off the calories and bit into one.

"Delicious," Irene smiled, trying not to let her grimace show. Mrs. Hudson beamed.

"Actually, Mrs. Hudson, since Ir-Emily is going to be staying for a while, I thought I'd introduce her to John and Mary as well. Get her mind right off the divorce." Molly whispered. Mrs. Hudson perked up.

"Oh, what a wonderful idea! When are they coming?"

"I was thinking of hosting a surprise dinner party. Sherlock hasn't seen John or Mary in ages, and I'd love for Emily to meet them." Molly said. Irene smiled sweetly.

"I'd love to meet them. Will you come too, Mrs. Hudson?" If Irene had thought it was impossible for Mrs. Hudson to look any more delighted than she already was, she was mistaken. Judging by the elated look on her face, she would have thought she was announcing the birth of the next Holmes child.

"Oh, of course! Do you girls need any help?" Molly shook her head.

"No thank you. Well, thanks for the tea, Mrs. Hudson. Emily and I should start preparing now." Molly and Irene both stood up. "See you at seven?"

"Oh yes! How wonderful! Bye dearies!" She called as the two 'sisters' walked out the door. Once back in the relative privacy of 221B, Molly turned to Irene.

"You're very good at staying in character." Molly commented. Irene smirked at her.

"I've had a lot of practice. Although, playing your simpering stepsister was unexpected." Ignoring her jab, Molly continued on.

"Well, she didn't recognize you, so that's good. We'll see how foolproof this disguise actually is when John and Mary stop by later." Irene looked around the flat.

"Where am I staying?" she asked.

"Oh, um. Well, there really isn't any other place...so you'll take my room." Irene raised her eyebrows and Molly hurried to explain.

"Sherlock and I normally sleep...in different rooms..." Irene looked aghast. "Uh, well you see, Sherlock-"

"You and him haven't shagged yet?" Irene burst out laughing. "Oh god, and I thought he was going soft." Molly huffed indignantly.

"No, we haven't. But if you want my help you will stop laughing right now." Molly's face was still bright red. Irene wiped the tears from her eyes and chuckled.

"Right. Go on,"

"Anyways, Sherlock doesn't sleep much, so I'll be in his room. Your room is over there. I'll bring Emily's clothes in later. Bathroom is down the hall, and I'll get you some toiletries too. Also, don't open the freezer; you won't like what's in there. Sherlock should be back soon with your papers." Irene simply collected her belongings and left the room.

By the time Sherlock returned to Baker Street, it was nearly five o'clock. Molly had finished the preparations for dinner and Irene had settled into Molly's room.

"Here," He said brusquely to the Woman. "Mycroft forged your birth certificate, driver's license, and all the other necessary forms." He tossed the packet onto the coffee table and shrugged out of his Belstaff. Yanking his scarf off, he headed into the kitchen. Without even turning around, Molly answered his yet unasked question.

"John and Mary are coming at 7, and Mrs. Hudson's already met Emily." She continued to wash the pan and refused to acknowledge him further. It wouldn't have taken a consulting detective for anyone to realize that she was annoyed.

"Molly," He sighed. She whirled around to face him and jabbed the pan towards his face.

"You should have consulted me about this. I live with you, Sherlock. I'm your girlfriend, okay? You can't just decide to undertake something so dangerous! What if-" Sherlock interrupted her.

"Molly, you knew what was at stake. We didn't have time for you to fret over this. You would have agreed even if I didn't push you. I trust her and even bloody Mycroft trusts her. She risked her life to help me. I wouldn't have agreed if I thought I was putting you in substantial danger." Molly looked down, nodding. Sherlock noticed her distress, and strode over to her. He hesitated before enveloping her into a hug. She sniffled into his shirt and he gingerly patted her on the back twice before extracating himself from her arms.

"Right," he continued awkwardly.

"Right," Molly repeated. "I should...I should um go check up on Ir-Emily." She scurried out of the kitchen and found Irene lounging in Sherlock's chair. Perhaps it was the recent tiff in the kitchen that made her seem off balance, because she suddenly felt an uncharacteristically strong sense of jealousy. Sherlock could be an intensely possessive man-even towards his chair. He rarely, if ever, allowed anyone else sit in it; Molly (and occasionally Toby) were the only exceptions. Irene must have noticed Molly's inner turmoil as she simply raised her eyebrows.

"John and Mary will be here in an hour or so," said Molly more brusquely than she had intended. "There's a chance John will recognize you, though for Mary's sake I'd prefer he didn't. If he does-"

"Then we'll have to tell him, won't we? I'm well aware of your intentions in inviting John over, you know. I also understand that his Mary isn't exactly what-or who-she appears to be. I imagine Sherlock's also going to reveal his great plan tonight." Molly sat down in what had once been John's chair.

"John knows you as well as Sherlock does. Even if he doesn't recognize you, we may still have to tell them."

"Them meaning Mary?" Irene asked. Molly looked at Irene curiously.

"You said that Mary wasn't what she seemed. Mary...Mary is a good person to have on your side. Besides, John and Mary are a package deal. They have a newborn though, so that may complicate matters." Irene seemed to be considering this when someone knocked on the door. Sherlock, who had been in the process of cleaning up a previous experiment, strode out of the kitchen and removed his goggles.

"No, no Molly, don't bother I'll get it." He flung open the door to revail his ecstatic landlady.

"Oh Sherlock, look at you!" She shooed him towards the bathroom. "John and Mary are coming soon, and you're dressed in that ratty old bathrobe." She seemed excited about the reunion of her two babies. Sherlock looked put out.

"Oh for heaven's sake, Mrs. Hudson, John really won't care." He huffed.

"Sherlock, go." Mrs. Hudson sighed wearily. Turning to Molly, she said, "I brought some pies and biscuits for dessert. I know I'm not your housekeeper, but I thought you'd like a break from cooking." While Molly and Mrs. Hudson fussed around the kitchen, Sherlock walked out of the bathroom, adjusting the buttons on his signature purple shirt. He sat across from Irene.

"Your girlfriend doesn't seem to be very happy with me here," she chuckled. Sherlock raised an eyebrow and steepled his hands.

"I'm not surprised. Did you expect her to be?"

"I didn't think you'd ever be...committed to a woman." Sherlock simply shrugged.

"Things change." Irene rose out of her chair and began to walk around Sherlock's chair.

"Why Miss Hooper though?" standing behind him, she lightly touched his shoulder. "Women wanted you-I wanted you-and yet...you chose her? Why?" She didn't miss the way his shoulders twitched.

"My intentions towards Molly do not concern you." said Sherlock stiffly. Irene clucked.

"Oh but Sherlock, what are your intentions? Surely you can't expect Molly to dote on you forever. Little Molly Hooper deserves so much more, don't you think?" She knew she had hit a nerve when his shoulders tensed again.

"Molly Hooper is more than you ever were or will ever hope to be." He said quiety. The Woman smirked in repsonse. She didn't exactly have anything aginst Molly, but wondered how the mousy pathologist had gotten the great Sherlock Holmes to love her so unconditionally. Perhaps if the circumstances were different, she might have even grown to like her. Molly's unassumingly innocent front was certainly something to respect.

"Oh, so protective of her!" The Woman crowed.

"That is enough," He growled. Irene circled around him once more before sauntering towards her room.

"The one who mattered," she sang before abruptly slamming the door in Sherlock's face.

Ten minutes before John and Mary's arrival, Irene finally opened the door to her bedroom and walked into the kitchen. Molly, who had been discussing her latest autopsy in detail to Sherlock, noticed her first. She gasped. Irene's eyeliner was visibly smudged as if she had been crying, and her hair was messy, as if she had been clawing and tearing at it. Irene smiled sunnily at them.

"I splashed some water on my face and messed up my hair. Thought that if I was going to be a divorced woman, I may as well play the part." Molly gaped at her before shutting her mouth.

"Er...okay. Right good." She said. Sherlock simply looked at her in exasperation.

"Oh dear lord, you can tell she just splashed water onto her face. The eyeliner is far too smudged. Even John would be able to tell it was faked." he reached over and wiped Irene's face, partially correcting her smeared eyeliner. "There. Much more realistic."

"It was a good idea though," Molly chirped. Just then, the doorbell rang. "I'll get it!" She opened the door and heartily embraced both of her guests. "John! Mary!" After the flurry of hugs, kisses, and other such sentimental niceties had been exchanged, Sherlock awkwardly cleared his throat.

"John, Mary." He nodded to both. "I trust you've been well?" John laughed and pulled Sherlock into a hug.

"You prick," John cheered affectionately. He patted Sherlock on the back before releasing him. Molly giggled.

"Uh actually, my sister's here today." John and Mary raised an eyebrow in unison.

"You never told us you had a sister, Molly. Keeping her all to yourself, are we?" Ribbed John. "We'd love to meet her. So where is-" At that moment, Irene bustled out of the kitchen. Even without speaking a word, it was clear that Irene had already transformed herself into Emily. Her gait lacked her usual feline grace, and her shoulders and head were subtly hunched, as if she lacked the self confidence to hold them up properly. Even Sherlock had to (grudgingly) admit that she was putting on quite the show.

"You must be John and Mary." Irene smiled softly. "Molly's told me so much about you." Mary spoke first.

"Oh it's so nice to meet Molly's family! I don't see much of a resemblance though," Irene looked at Molly quizzically.

"We're actually stepsisters, but Molly and I have always been very close. I'm Emily, by the way." She explained. Both the Watsons shook hands with Emily.

"Er so, let's go have some dinner, shall we?" The women bustled ahead, leaving John and Sherlock lagging behind.

"Is she okay?" John asked.

"Recent divorce, isn't taking it well. Couldn't stand staying in the same house as her soon to be ex-husband, so she's staying here." Sherlock didn't need to fake the annoyance on his face.

John pursed his lips thoughtfully. They could hear Molly, Emily, and Mary laughing in the kitchen.

"I feel like I've met Emily before." Sherlock struggled to keep his alarm from showing as he shurgged nonchalantly. Irene's acting had been flawless, and Molly did a wonderful job in disguising her, yet somehow John had noticed the familiarity.

How?

"Molly keeps pictures of her everywhere, and I'm sure she's dropped enough hints about her." Sherlock explained, rolling his eyes. John snickered and clapped Sherlock's shoulder.

"One of the best things about Mary is that I don't have to worry about the in-laws." He said as the two rejoined the women.

"Lucky you," Sherlock muttered in reply. John grinned at him before leaning over to kiss Mary on the cheek. He gave Emily another curious look before sitting down for dinner. The whole affair was a quiet one. Molly and Sherlock both struggled to keep the focus from gravitating too much towards Emily, but allowed just enough to prevent suspicion. Despite their efforts, both noted the troubled looks that the otherwise unobservant John gave Emily. As they waited for dessert, Molly distracted Mary while Sherlock spoke with John.

"You're looking at her again," Sherlock commented. John glanced at Sherlock.

"I swear I've seen her before. I can't remember where, but something about her seems familiar." He shook his head, laughing. "I'm getting delusional."

"Hmm, I always thought you were." Sherlock smirked. John snorted in return.

"Only because you made me," was the last thing John said before he changed the topic.

About an hour later, Mary, John, and Mrs. Hudson began to gather their things.

"Dinner was lovely. It was so nice to meet you, Emily. It's really too bad we don't do this more often," said Mary. Mrs. Hudson nodded in agreement. Sherlock, who had been looking out the window, turned around.

"I believe your cab is here."

"Oh! Well thanks again for dinner. We should be going," John said. Waving, he linked arms with Mary and left.

"Are you sure you don't need help cleaning up?" Asked Mrs. Hudson. Molly smiled tightly.

"No, we're fine! Thanks so much for your help," with one last smile, Mrs. Hudson also left.

"Are we...are we ever going to tell John?" asked Molly hesitantly.

"Not now." Molly glanced at Irene before settling down into Sherlock's chair.

"Well," Irene began. "I should go wash this makeup off." Molly closed her eyes.

"Remover should be in the bottom cabinet behind the petri dishes." She said, gesturing vaguely. With her eyes still closed, she tilted her head back and sighed. She could distinctly hear Irene swear and struggled to stifle her snicker. She must have found Sherlock's bacteria cultures. To her left, she could hear Sherlock swishing around the kitchen. Next to her foot, Toby purred and leaped into her lap. She began to stroke his fur. Molly must have dozed off because by the time she woke up, Sherlock was trying to shoo Toby off her lap.

"Off you go." He said, prodding the cat. Toby hissed, swiping at Sherlock. Molly cracked an eye open only to see her very adorably put out boyfriend. Chuckling, she gently eased Topy off of her lap. With a disdainful flick of his tail, Toby hissed once more at Sherlock and sauntered away. Sherlock stopped pouting and lay down next to her, placing his head in her newly unoccupied lap. She patted his curls.

"You're always so mean to Toby." Ignoring her, Sherlock closed his eyes.

"He was monopolizing your lap. Prime real estate, you know." He said eventually. Molly smiled down at him.

"Do you have a plan yet?" she said as she continued to stroke his hair. He smiled slightly.

"Not quite." He purred. He was about to say something more when Irene walked out of the bathroom.

"Where is th-oh. Ohhhh." She smiled devilishly at the sight of a very rumpled Sherlock and a scarlet faced Molly. "Seems like Sherlock's been domesticated." Irene cooed. Sherlock yelped as Molly hastily pushed his head off her lap. The Woman simply laughed and returned to her room.

"So um...it's been a long day...I'm going to sleep." Molly whispered. Without another word, she plucked up her belongings and shuffled off to Sherlock's room. He shrugged and flopped back onto the couch to plan his next move.

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**So what'd you guys think? Next chapter is all Sherlolly fluff, btw ;D Please leave a review or PM me feedback!**

**Love, Audrey**


	5. Chapter 5

**Little fluff chapter for all of my devoted readers :) I love you all. If you guys like this, I'll definitely try to incorporate more fluff! This chapter wasn't betaed either, so please let me know if there are any errors or if the characters seemed off, etc. Squee Sherlolly is so cute. Thanks to everyone who reviewed; it really means a lot and it is definitely a huge motivator. Also, while I have a lot of the plot planned out, nothing's set in stone, so if you want a particular scene or something to happen, please PM me, and I'll see if I can squeeze it in ;) Anyways, enjoy the fluff!**

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Molly woke later that night only to find Sherlock's arm draped across her stomach. She figured he must have finally decided the past few nights to be taxing enough to merit one night's sleep. He rarely ever slept, but when he did, it was nearly impossible to rouse him. She wiggled her way out of his embrace and sat up, peering at the clock. 2:30 A.M. Feeling around for her slippers, she cinched her robe a little tighter and padded towards the kitchen. She opened the refrigerator and pushed aside the livers, kidneys, and other body parts to grab her milk. She must have made more noise than she had meant to because only minutes later, the door to Irene's room creaked open and a very sleepy dominatrix padded her way into the kitchen. Molly jumped a little in surprise. Though Irene's face was cosmetic free, it was still lovely and conveyed a certain regality that Molly would never be able to achieve. In the lighting, she could see the light smattering of freckles that decorated Irene's aristocratic nose, which lended a sense of unusual innocence to her face. Her usually coiffed hair tumbled down her back, messy yet still beautiful. Even unprepared, Irene Adler was still one of the most beautiful women Molly had ever seen. Despite the twinge of envy that invariably made its way into the pit of her stomach, she still smiled gently at the Woman.

"Oh, hello Irene. I'm sorry if I woke you. Would you like a cuppa?" Molly asked. Irene seemed taken aback by Molly's hospitality.

"No, I couldn't sleep anyways." Irene yawned, flinging open the refrigerator door. Suddenly, she yanked her hand back, curling her lip in disgust. "Is that...a kidney?!" Irene gingerly prodded the said kidney with a perfectly manicured nail. Molly looked up from her cup.

"Probably." Molly shrugged. Irene shut the refrigerator quickly.

"A...human one?!" Molly simply hummed in response.

"Disgusting. God knows what goes through that man's head" She shivered and disgust before peering down at Molly curiously. "It seems like you're immune to his antics though," She said with an air of amusement.

"I should be. I'm the one who gave him the organs," Molly giggled at the look of palpable horror on Irene's face.

"My god, you can have him. I didn't realize being Holmes's girlfriend would entail having to put up with _that_. You two are perfect for each other." Molly giggled some more before sobering.

"Sherlock mentioned that you...". She began hesitantly. Irene looked up from her tea-making.

"I loved him, you know. Men used to fall at my feet. I swore he was gay for John though." Irene laughed harshly. She glanced at Molly. "Obviously not. It seemed like the only logical explanation at the time though," Putting her cup of tea down, she walked towards the kitchen window and sighed. "I thought we would have been perfect for each other. I couldn't understand why he wasn't throwing himself at me. Although, I can assure you, had I known that being involved with him would entail...this..." Molly had to smile at that. Living with Sherlock was difficult at best, but it also allowed her to see the small flaws and glances of humanity that he kept carefully hidden from the rest of the world. Irene continued to speak. "I've long since gotten over Sherlock, don't you worry. He's besotted with you, the poor fool." She turned from the window and walked towards Molly. Grasping her face in her hands, Irene tilted Molly's face left, then right. "I wonder what he sees in you. You're average looking, bright though. Optimistic to the point of being chipper. Obviously you were enamored with Sherlock before he even noticed you, but that is to be expected. Women would kill to be with him, so what makes you so special? You're completely ordinary." Molly blinked, refusing to let the Woman see the hurt her words had caused. Yes, she was average, but she liked to think that there was something Sherlock saw in her that made her different from the others. Looking up at Irene, she recognized an emotion that she had too often seen in herself; jealousy. Maybe the Woman didn't love Sherlock, but she was certainly jealous of Molly. Quiet, unassuming Molly Hooper had something she'd never have. The knowledge gave Molly a burst of confidence and she smiled sweetly at Irene.

"It really is too bad he chose me, isn't it?" Molly said. Irene smiled sadly.

"You, Molly Hooper, are completely incorrigible." She put her mug into the sink and shuffled back towards her room. Irene was about to open the door to her bedroom when she hesitated. "I may have been the _Woman_, but you were always _the_ woman." She paused before continuing. "A very wise man once told me that sentiment was nothing but a defect found on the losing side. It would have taken a very special woman to change his mind. You've always counted, and that's what makes you different from all the others." Irene said before quietly slipping back into her room.

Molly sat there for another hour before she too, went to bed. She tiptoed into her bedroom to find Sherlock sleeping just as he had when she left. The light from the street lamps filtered in from the window and cast an ethereal glow on the bed. The soft sound of the cars passing by outside was the only noise marring the perfect silence. She watched as her Sherlock, beautiful Sherlock, slumbered innocently. His dark curls were messily and haphazardly sticking up, his face unusually pale in the dim light, making those perfect, slashing cheekbones even more prominent. The cupid bow lips that had inspired a thousand fantasies were slightly parted as he snored softly. The sharp angles and edges and lines that defined his face during the day were smooth, and gave him the illusion of seeming younger and more carefree. Molly watched, appreciating the rare chance to see Sherlock so unguarded. With his usual calculating coldness gone, his face exuded an innocent air. She eased herself back into his arms and snuggled against his shoulder, breathing in his familiar, comfortingly clean scent. Brushing the hair off his face, she pored over every detail of his face, and stored it into her memory. Yes, there were times-actually most of the time-when he was a frustrating git. She had long since learned to tolerate it, but moments like this made every argument, every stolen kidney, completely worth it. Out of all the women that loved him, he chose her. She didn't know why, and didn't expect to ever understand, but she was incredibly happy he did. She gently touched his cheek and kissed his forehead. She took his hand and interlaced her fingers together with his. Using her free hand, she ran her fingers through his hair, stroking it just the way he liked. She could have sworn she saw his mouth curve up ever so subtly into a smile.

"I hope one day you'll tell me what made me so different from all the others. I wish you'd tell me why." She whispered before she too, drifted off to sleep. She didn't notice his eyes fly open, didn't feel his hand gently squeeze her's in return. In an uncharacteristic display of sentiment and affection, he traced the outline of her nose, lips, and cheeks, watching her face relax with each passing second. She didn't hear his murmured reply.

"You were always different because you have always counted. Loyalty, courage, love, and intelligence above all." He smiled ever so softly. "Sleep well, Molly Hooper."

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**Sooo...what'd you think? ;D Please let me know! This is my first fanfiction so I don't really know if I'm doing anything right haha. Don't forget to review :)**

**Was it too OOC?**

**-Audrey**


	6. Chapter 6

**Hey guys! Sorry this is so late! Until AP Exams are over here, I'll probably only be able to update every two weeks :o I hope you guys enjoy this chapter! I tried something different with this one, and there's multiple perspectives here. Special thanks to everyone who reviewed; your reviews honestly make my day (I grin like an idiot after each one). Some people were also wondering how Irene knew that Mary was "different", but not to worry...all shall be unveiled in due time winkity wink ;)**

**Special thanks and loads of cookies to my lovely beta lavanyalabelle :)**

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The world's only consulting detective must have noticed that something was different between the two women the next morning. In an unusual display of tact, however, he chose not to comment on it. Instead, he settled for aggravating Molly and Irene to the point of no return. Unlike Irene, however, Molly had the fortunate luxury of being able to escape his torment to go to work.

"Sherlock, I can't sneak out any more organs for you!"Molly snapped, for what seemed like the thousandth time that morning. His incessant pleas only seemed to aggravate her more, and she slowly exhaled to calm herself. Although there were other ways he could acquire an organ (god knew Mycroft probably had a few spare ones lying around), for some inexplicable reason, he had made it a point to get them from Molly. His organ smuggler in question glanced at him. The disappointed look on his face nearly broke Molly's heart, and for a second, she almost reconsidered.

"You could if you wanted," he grumbled. She strengthened her resolve and glared at him.

"This is your third kidney this week. No."

Huffing, the consulting detective flopped into his chair and pouted like the overgrown baby that he was.

"John was right; you are such a drama queen." Molly knew perfectly well about his alternative (albeit possibly illegal) methods of acquiring organs. She also knew that he preferred her...St. Bart's organs, and secretly enjoyed watching him sulk. Molly picked up her purse and coat and prepared to leave for the morgue.

"Lestrade will call with a case, don't you worry."She pecked him once on the cheek and left.

After Molly left, Irene looked at Sherlock."She can do so much better than you."

He didn't refute it directly, but said, "Well so far, her 'better' has consisted of psychotic serial killers."Irene laughed.

"Well, you've already got the psychotic part covered." She said, clearly amused.

He rolled his eyes. "High functioning sociopath. Obviously." Scoffing, he hopped out of his chair and headed for the kitchen.

"Hmm, that's what you tell yourself anyways." She walked towards the kitchen. "He's going to do something soon." He flicked his eyes towards her, instantly understanding to whom she was referring. "Obviously he's going to want to make the first move," Sherlock didn't respond, instead focusing the bulk of his attention on the beakers before him. "He's not going to forget Molly this time, you know." He dragged his eyes away from his experiment to look at her.

"I am well aware of that."

"You would risk putting your precious pathologist in danger?" Beside her, Toby mewed and rubbed his body against her left leg.

"She would be in more danger otherwise. At least I can manipulate the situation accordingly this way." He said gravely.

"And I suppose; you can't tell me...or anyone...your plan, then?" She took his silence as confirmation.

"Not yet."

"You love her." She smiled when he twitched in surprise. "You're not the only one that can deduce, Mr. Holmes." Irene spared another glance at him. "Surely I don't need to remind you of the consequences. Moriarty will burn your heart out if you don't play your cards right. Except this time, he won't make any mistakes."

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If Molly was having a difficult morning, the bustle of the morgue more than made up for it. Her workload was just enough to keep her distracted, yet not so much as to overwhelm her. She had just finished her second autopsy of the morning when her desk phone beeped. Yanking off her contaminated gloves, she peered at the screen curiously before answering the call.

"Hello?"

"Hey Molly, just wondered if you were free for lunch sometime tomorrow? I'd love to catch up." Molly struggled to keep her features nonchalant. Mary never called; usually their lunch dates were planned by text.

"Erm.. yeah, that should work. How's John?" It was system they had worked out after Moriarty's return. Molly would inquire over John. If Mary's response was over three words, no one was in immediate danger. Molly and Mary both knew that if she was really inquiring over John's health, she would have asked Sherlock instead.

"Oh, he's fine. Bit cranky though." Mary laughed. Mary's response was six words long. No one was in danger,at least not yet, anyways.

Molly relaxed marginally."Well that's great. Listen, I'm swamped today, but I'll talk to you later, yeah?"

"Right, see you tomorrow then." With a swift jab of her finger, she ended the call.

Although she desperately wanted to know what was on Mary's mind, she refused to let it show. Instead, she skipped her lunch break to sneak into the lab to swab some organ cultures for Sherlock, and placed them in her locker. He probably didn't deserve the efforts she was making to keep his brilliant mind occupied, but she didn't want him to do something like shoot the wall. Again. When she returned to her locker two hours later to check her mobile, she noticed that the cultures had been replaced with two packages of her favorite crisps. She peeled off the note taped on top. Written in the familiarly sloping handwriting that she knew almost as well as her own, it read, "For heaven's sake, Molly, do try to eat something." Smiling, she returned to work, crisps in hand.

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Sometime around two, Irene noticed, Sherlock had disappeared; presumably to pick up supplies for his latest experiment. Although she knew that she was being watched, she was still surprised to find that Sherlock had no qualms about leaving her alone. Instead, she carried out the necessary surveillance and occasional blackmail that Sherlock had requested of her. In her musings, she briefly wondered why she had never thought to become an intelligence officer, before realizing that the legal lifestyle was entirely too drab for her tastes. She also wondered where Sherlock really was, but figured he was at Bart's poking around the cadavers. Bloody git.

* * *

A few hours after Molly had left for work, Sherlock decided he would stop by Bart's. Stamford wouldn't be too keen to see him after the '**incident**' in the lab last week, but at the very least, he figured, he could _borrow_ their equipment to work on his cultures. And maybe check on Molly. He walked a few more blocks and tapped in Molly's pin number at the back door. When he arrived at her locker, he found several petri dishes of organ cultures. A series of rapid deductions left no doubt in his mind that she had skipped her lunch break to safely smuggle out these dishes, and he was suddenly overwhelmed with a strange and not entirely unpleasant feeling. Gratitude? Affection? Either way, he decided to make an effort not to pester Molly for at least another week. He turned down the hall and stopped in front of the vending machine. As he stacked the petri dishes in his coat pocket, Sherlock replaced the cultures with the newly purchased crisps. After a moment's hesitation, he scrawled a quick note to Molly before swishing away.

* * *

Elizabeth 'Liza' Sherlock Watson was a fussy baby. In particular, she seemed to have a penchant for waking her two parents during their well deserved rest. Perhaps the similarity between her and her godfather was more than just the name, for she was an incredibly perceptive and mischievous 15 month old.

"Mummy," She gurgled, raising her chubby arms up. She must have recognized the faint signs of distress on Mary's face. The last time she wore that look, Uncle Sherlock was waving around a bag of fingers (human, mind you) and ranting about rabid dogs. Murder was a word he liked quite a bit. "Murder?" Mary chuckled and kissed the top of Liza's head.

"No, dearie, not this time. Mummy's just wondering what shenanigans your Uncle Sherlock and Aunt Molly are up to this time." Liza just wrinkled her little button nose at Mary before blubbering nonsensically into her blouse.

* * *

And in the midsts of all these events, an unfamiliar man sat in his chair, pondering over the miscellaneous photographs and newspaper articles sprawled all over his desk. The still faces of Molly, Sherlock, John, Mary, even Liza, peered up in an eerie candidness. He sat there for several moments thinking; plotting. When someone finally knocked on his door, he calmly slid the photographs back into the drawer, one by one.

Sherlock's was the last one to be put away. He narrowed his eyes at his picture.

_**"Did you miss me?"**_

* * *

**Sooo what'd you guys think? Let me know if you think the plot's moving too fast; I really want to have some nice character and plot development :). Please leave your thoughts and advice and if you want a particular scene, PM me. **

**Love,**

**Audrey**


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